


Feels Like I'm Driving in The Rain

by verdecaprisun



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Blaine is Bad at Feelings, Crying During Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, Insecure Blaine Anderson, Lack of Communication, M/M, Men Crying, Smut, Supportive Kurt Hummel, again i'm really just projecting here, am i projecting? i might just be, but they talk to each other!, sort of unresolved ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:53:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23166544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verdecaprisun/pseuds/verdecaprisun
Summary: What can I say? Blaine is insecure, and it all becomes a little too much. Him and Kurt talk, some soft smut ensues.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel
Kudos: 60





	Feels Like I'm Driving in The Rain

**Author's Note:**

> This is technically an unresolved ending, but I was rewatching Glee and forgot about how intensely I relate to Blaine as a character, so I had to write this. With smut of course, because of course. But this is mostly plot (surprise surprise!) Anyways, if my two friends (you know who you are) ever find this I will actually die, but here this is.  
> Enjoy!  
> This is unbeta'd by the way, I'll go back and fix spelling and grammar another time.

“Kurt, stop it, I’m trying to get ready!”

“But how can I stop when you look this good?” 

Blaine let out a heavy sigh. He sure as hell didn’t feel too good, but he wasn’t going to let Kurt know that. No way, this was a competition and Blaine was going to win. That’s why he started going to the gym not one, not two, but four times a week. And he felt great! Physically that is, but those little annoying voices in his head were still bothering him. Of course they were, but hey, if Kurt thought he looked great, then what was there for Blaine to complain about?

“Kurt c’mon I have to get to the gym, my class is about to start.”

“Hmmmm, can’t you just skip this once? C’mon we can workout here! Together! I can show you all of my amazing workout tricks and you can show me how you keep that fantastic ass of yours!” The end of Kurt’s exclamation was delivered with a prompt smack to Blaine’s ass. A smack that would normally have Blaine all hot and bothered, but was sort of making him feel sick at the present moment. 

“No Kurt. I- I really have to go to this class, okay? I’ll see you later.” A kiss was planted on Kurt’s forehead, but no eye contact was made. Blaine was out of the apartment before Kurt could even murmur: 

“Okay …?” 

\----

Working out felt great. Blaine loved working out. He always had, even from his days of starting Dalton’s fight club (which he won’t talk about). So why he felt awful about it this time around was a mystery to him. 

Well … not exactly a mystery. 

With the way that he was beating on the punching bag, and the dull ache beginning to form in his knuckles, he was pretty sure that something was definitely wrong. “Pretty sure” being reflective of “100% positive”. 

Of course he was insecure! With a hot boyfriend like Kurt, how could he not? There were some pretty noticeable differences between the two men, differences that Blaine took very close to heart. Kurt was all lean and light muscle and practically no fat to be found, while Blaine was short- far too short, he thought -and still had bits of fat lingering no matter how hard he worked out. And if his workout currently was indicative of anything, he worked out pretty damn hard.

Blaine didn’t want to feel bad! Of course he didn’t want to compare himself to his own boyfriend, he knows how bad and how toxic that can become. But when he’s feeling so bad about himself- and he’s starting to think that this may not be a physical appearance thing -it’s hard not to compare. Blaine supposes that it’s out of love. God, he’s filled with so much love for Kurt that sometimes it gets incredibly hard to function. 

So yes, Blaine loves Kurt, he loves him so much … but sometimes Blaine hates Kurt. Hates Kurt for being so fit and so loving and so kind and considerate and a whole plethora of adjectives to describe how perfect his boyfriend is. But more importantly, Blaine hates himself. Hates himself for hating Kurt. Hates himself for being so emotionally constipated. Hates himself for looking this way, for feeling this way. 

One stray punch to the punching bag bends Blaine’s wrist a little to sharply:

“Fuck!” 

He feels a stray hand lay itself on his shoulder. 

“Hey man, you’ve been beating that bag pretty hard … maybe you should give yourself a rest and lay off of it for a while?”

“Yeah,” Blaine flashes what he hopes is a grateful smile, but really it feels wrong, “I’ll do that.” 

With his rowing class, fifteen minute run, ab exercises, and punching bag spree under his belt, Blaine supposes that it’s time to head to the apartment and face his demons. 

\------

He makes sure to not slam the door when he gets back, he already knows that he’s pushing his luck with how snippy he was this morning. 

“Kurt, I’m back!” He singsongs, hoping that he’ll sound chipper enough that Kurt won’t notice anything. 

No response. 

“Honey …? You here?” 

Still no response. 

Blaine then proceeds to check every room in their tiny studio flat, no Kurt to be found. He lets out a sigh of relief that he didn’t even know that he was holding. Flopping onto their shared bed, Blaine feels a wave a tiredness wash over him. Tired because of what? He wasn’t sure. Tired of working out. Tired of self loathing. Tired of hiding it all from Kurt …. Tired, that was certain, if the unintentional nap that he slipped into was any indicator. 

Not too soon after Blaine had fully drifted off, Kurt slipped into the apartment, arms full of groceries (organic, of course), expecting to be greeted by his adorable boyfriend. When the latter didn’t occur, Kurt called out:

“Sweetheart? You home?” 

Nothing. 

Shrugging, Kurt finished putting away his groceries and worked his way to the bedroom, fully intending on indulging on some Netflix and maybe some ice cream, only to find Blaine curled up on top of the duvet. 

Fondling smiling down, Kurt placed a blanket on top of his boyfriend and brushed some stray curls off of his forehead (feeling forever grateful that he finally, finally convinced Blaine to stop using hair gel). Grabbing his laptop, Kurt lets himself glance upon Blaine one more time before quietly making his way to their living room to watch some well earned TV. 

\--------

Blaine stirs from his sleep, and spares a look at his phone to see the time. Groaning when he realized that it was already dinner time, Blaine sat up and whipped a slow hand down his face. Pushing himself off of the bed, he walked to the bathroom and turned on a scalding hot shower. Usually sleep helped Blaine keep his mind from spiraling, but all it seemed to do this time was make him groggy and gross and all the things he was currently hating himself for. 

Stripping from his gross gym clothes, and stepping in the shower, it donned on Blaine that he hadn’t even checked to see if Kurt was home. Oh well, he’d do that after this shower.   
This shower turned out to be a thirty minute one, and if Blaine cried under the blistering spray, well nobody needed to know that besides himself. 

Finally, he slipped out of the shower, wrapping himself in his favorite fluffy white towel and rubbing his hair semi dry. After deeming himself sufficiently dry, Blaine walked into the bedroom only to see Kurt sitting on their shared bed, painting his nails with a shiny top coat. 

“Oh, there you are! I’ve barely seen you at all today!” Kurt exclaimed, chipper as ever. 

“Yeah,” Blaine responded, praying that Kurt wouldn’t notice how despondent he sounded. 

Evidently Kurt didn’t, because he continued on talking like Blaine hadn’t even responded:

“How was the gym? I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you got back, I went to get lunch with Rachel and Mercedes, and then went to that cute organic market down in Tribeca. It was so nice Blaine! I got us some stuff for dinner tonight, and hopefully for breakfast tomorrow, although I was thinking that we could sleep in, so maybe more like lunch…” he trailed off when he looked at Blaine again, blowing on his nails. 

“Baby … Blaine, are you crying?” 

Well, that certainly wasn’t where Blaine was expecting this conversation to go. 

He let a (very shaky) hand touch his face, where Blaine found that he was, in fact, crying. 

“Huh, I guess I am.”

“Do you- do you want to talk about anything?” Kurt responded, worry seeping into his voice, patting the spot on their bed next to him.   
Blaine took a seat, and stared at the wall in front of them. He felt the worry radiating from Kurt, and knew that he had to address the situation. 

“Sometimes I think I don’t know how to ask for help.”

A pause. 

“And what makes you think that? If you don’t mind me asking,” Kurt quickly tacked onto the end of his question. 

Another pause. 

“Because I haven’t asked you for help yet.” Blaine could still feel the hot tears slipping down his face, but couldn’t bring himself to wipe them away. Not when Kurt was currently doing that for him. 

“Help with- help with what baby?”

“Sometimes, and I know I shouldn’t, sometimes I compare us. And God, Kurt, you’re so perfect, … and I’m just not. And it hurts. Kurt, it hurts so much sometimes. I can’t even look in the mirror anymore and I just, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before but I didn’t know how and-” 

Blaine was interrupted with a kiss. A chaste one. A blink and you miss it one. 

“Never apologize Blaine. Never for stuff like this.” 

Their foreheads touched. 

“Is this why we haven’t been intimate in a while? No judgment! I’m just wondering …”

Blaine nodded, he felt more tears coming. 

“I’m sorry” 

His voice was shaky, his body was shaky, and he really just wanted to curl up into a ball, but Kurt wasn’t going to let him do that.

“Hey, hey, Blaine it’s okay. This is the stuff we need to talk about, to communicate, okay?”

“Okay ….” He hiccuped. 

“Okay. Now, can we talk about exactly what you’re feeling? Is that okay?”

A soft nod. A sniffle. 

“Okay. Talk when you want to hon, there’s no pressure.”

A few moments of silence passed before Blaine took a deep breath and exhaled. 

“Kurt, I think- I think I really hate myself.” 

“Can we- can you elaborate on that? If that’s not too much to ask.”

“Yeah I um,” another inhale, “I just look at myself sometimes and wonder what it is you find so appealing because I really can’t find anything. I mean, my stomach is too big- I don’t even fit in half of my pants anymore -and I’m way too short, and my acne is coming back again, and I eat too much. And then I just. I look at you Kurt, and God, you’re like this beautiful creature and I love you so much but it hurts. It hurts when I compare us and I can’t even stop myself.”

Blaine’s head gets pulled to rest on Kurt’s chest, and they fall into a lying position on the bed. Kurt slowly strokes his hair, take a deep breath and:

“Thank you. For telling me all of that. That was really brave of you Blaine, and I’m incredibly proud. I can’t say that I didn’t notice anything earlier, and I should've acted on it, but I’m glad you came to me. I might not be the best person to help you with this baby … I think- I think you might need to see a therapist.”

A sharp inhale of breath. Blaine’s entire body tenses up. An exhale. Only half of the tension leaves. 

“You- you’re right. I um, I don’t think I wanted to admit that to myself.”

“Nobody does baby, and that’s why I am so proud of you. And I will help you every step of the way. We’re a team, you and me,”

“Yeah we are”

“Yeah we are, and so I’ll be there for you every step of the way.” 

“Thank you,” Blaine practically whispered, his voice was so small. 

Kurt maneuvered himself so he could make eye contact with Blaine: the two of them facing each other on the bed, but still holding a tight embrace.   
“And for the record Blaine, all of that stuff you said about yourself, about your height, and weight … I don’t think any of that is true. And that’s not going to change how you think about yourself, I know, but I’d like to show you how appreciative of you I am, if you’ll allow me?”

Blaine must’ve looked skeptical, because Kurt added:

“This would involve us getting intimate, and if you’re not ready for that, I completely understand. But I’d really like to show you how beautiful I find you, if that’s alright.”

A hesitant nod. 

“Blaine, I’m going to need your explicit consent if this is something you really want, okay love?”

“Okay. I mean- yes, I’m okay with this.”

“Perfect” 

\---------

“I wasn’t lying earlier, your gym clothes make your ass look great.”

Blaine chose not to respond, knowing that he’d probably say something embarassing or contradictory. Blaine, however, did not choose to let out a massive moan when Kurt appreciatively grabbed and squeezed his ass. 

“Kurt …”

“Shh, just let me take care of you.”

Taking care of Blaine apparently meant running both of his hands down Blaine’s sides only to land at Blaine's cock. 

Carefully grasping it, Kurt hummed appreciatively and said:

“Just for the record, I love your height. And your weight, and everything about you. God, Blaine Anderson you are just a masterpiece. Sometimes I can’t tear my eyes off of you, you’re such a beauty.” 

Neither of them could tell if the noise that escaped Blaine was a moan or a sob, but both of them took it as encouragement to continue. 

Stroking him faster, Kurt moved one of his hands to grasp at Blaine’s pec, thumbing over a nipple. Blaine let out a shivery moan. He let his hand drift from Blaine’s pec up to his throat, lightly cupping the back of his head and thumbing his jaw. 

Speeding up his hand even more, Kurt chastely kissed Blaine, and left their lips touching, but not kissing. Not too long after that, Blaine’s legs and abdomen spasmed as he came all over Kurt’s hand. 

And if he was crying, neither of them were going to say anything. 

Blaine then quickly went to return the favor, but Kurt simply knocked his hand away and shook his head. Pulling Blaine to his chest, he cuddled the shorter man, rubbing circles on his back and playing with his hair until Blaine was lulled into yet another sleep. 

“Oh Blaine … what am I going to do with you.”


End file.
